


But Now I Know Who I Am

by CreepyLittleLullaby



Series: Who Am I [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Angst, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Kidnapping, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Nightmares, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 00:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyLittleLullaby/pseuds/CreepyLittleLullaby
Summary: I forgot who I was.But I know who I am know.Is that enough for you?





	But Now I Know Who I Am

It was so cold, so dark. His head throbbed painfully and his chest felt like it had been crushed. He could feel the blood, it was warm and leaking against his temples and skin. It felt sticky, gross, and vomit inducing. Lance felt sick. Alone.

“H-help! Keith! Shiro! Hunk!!! Help me!” Yet, nothing changed. The castle had already worm holed away. It had been a solo mission. The castle and other paladins were going to throw the Galra off track while Lance gathered supplies on the planet with Blue. But Blue wasn’t anywhere Lance could see. And there was still a gash gushing blood from his head, and a rock crushing his legs. His helmet crackled from seven feet away.

“Lance! Your- breaking- - - What’s - - you need - - - grab the - - - get out of there! - - - - taking so long?” Lance sobbed.

“Pidge! Help! Please! I don’t wanna die! Pidge please!” Lance whimpered, his lungs starting to burn and his breaths beginning to wheeze. His last spoken words turning into a wheeze. “Please… I wanna go home.”

Yet nobody came.

And the pain only got worse. His body ached and felt numb at the same time. A burning tingle as well as sharp stabs every time his body jerked uncontrollably. There was a pool of blood beneath him now where his head laid. It splashed againt his cheek where his head lay on the ground. Lance no longer having the strength to hold up his head. 

Everything was spinning and going dark. Lance’s head was stuffed with more cotton and less blood and the smell of salt water was thick in the air. It gave that odd rushing sensation in his nose that filled Lance with nostalgia. Infecting Lance’s sense like a pleasant virius. 

Except for the fact this planet had no ocean. Lance’s eyes slipped closed.

He didn’t want to die.

He didn’t want to die. Please. He wanted to live. He wanted to go home. He wanted people to stay. To love him. He wanted to go home where people did love him. Where people didn’t leave him. Please. He wanted something to take him home. 

But it life never gave him anything did they?

\---

“NO!!! NO! NO!” The brunette shot up, screaming. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he hiccupped and sobbed. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want them to leave him. He was scared. His hands clasped over his mouth and he curled up. His knees coming up to bury his head into as his body shook. Arms grappling at his knees for any purchase he could get. Anything to ground him.

Though, in just a moment the door slid open and arms immediately wrapped around him. Making Lance immediately let go of his knees and cling to Ezor’s waist. Hands twisting into the fabric of her clothing as he nuzzled his head into her. Still shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as Ezor pulled him closer. Letting him cling as she hushed him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t be stupid or bad or worthless anymore. Please don’t leave me. I don’t wanna die. Please.” Ezor simply hushed Lance quietly. Holding him securely and rocking the trembling boy gently before looked at Narti who hung back in the door. Listening sadly as Lance broke down in front of both of them.

The nightmares that had faded had gotten so much worse after the mission where Lance was caught by Voltron. But the trauma seemed to be deeper set than just one meeting that had only lasted possibly half a varga. The scary part through was that Lance never remember waking up and sobbing to them. Never remembered what he dreamed about. 

Repressed memories. 

Narti stepped forward and pressed his fingers to Lance’s temple, immediately the boy went limp into her grasp. The crystal on all three of the generals calming down from their bright shining to a dim glow. The bond between them calming down once more as Lance fell into a dreamless unconsciousness. Ezor glared, looking to Narti.

“I will find who did this to him I will find out what happened to him. And I will kill them for doing that to him. No boy like him should wake up screaming every night. Not one and definitely not Lance.” Narti didn’t say a word, only gave a single nod.

It was a mutual understanding.

Ezor pulled Lance a little closer, running her fingers through Lance’s hair while settling down into his bed herself, being sure to cover Lance with a blanket. Narti disappearing by the time Ezor looked again at the now closed door. 

She still remembered finding Lance. His body had been limp underneath a rock, his skin had been so pale and blood infected almost every part of his body. Ezor personally had never seen a human before. Lotor was the one who’d realized that the alien didn’t look so good and that he needed help.

At first, Ezor hadn’t quite… cared. Sure, he was a boy that needed help. But she couldn’t connect with Lance. He was just a hurt boy that needed to get home. He wasn’t the first. God knows he probably wouldn’t be the last. But, then he started squirming into her walls, looking to her for reassurance. She was the first one to go to him. She was the first one he met when he knew nothing. He needed her.

Ezor hadn’t know how much she cherished that feeling until she had it.

Someone needed her. Completely. Wanted her to be the one he needed.

She crumbled. 

Now she couldn’t picture his limp body without feeling sick with the need to check on him. Feel him breathing. She couldn’t imagine life without him. Didn’t want to. He’d clawed his way into her walls. Into everyone’s walls. Now he was there to stay. Ezor whispered against his hair.

“You’re safe here cub. You’re safe.” She paused.

“And I’ll kill anyone who tries to change that.” 

\---

Of course, just when things started settling down, it blew up again.

Lance was beside her in the training room, Zethrid was proving her strength and bench-pressing Lance above her head. Said boy laughing madly as she did so. One of those shrieking laughs you get when you can’t contain yourself that makes everyone laugh happily along. The training hall was filled with giggles and chatter as they playfully trained. It was a rest day after a mission, so they could have a little fun with training before it got serious again. It was also a mild celebration in Ezor’s mind. Lance hadn’t had a nightmare in three days. Though, Ezor accounted most of that to how they’d all slept in the same room during the mission. Lance always seemed to sleep better with someone there.

It was something to think about. 

Lance was just squirming to try and get off of Zethrid’s shoulder when red light replaced the gentle purple glowing of the room and sirens wailed much louder than the laughter in the room, replacing it with sober silence as they all immediately ran to their positions.

The ship was being attacked.

Lance hooks his mask on and clicks the safety lock, grabbing his close range rifle and follows closely behind Zethrid and Ezor. Ezor felt herself dreading the strategy. But there were no sniping ranges for them to stick Lance into. Not anywhere safe and secure. The safest place was fighting beside them.

It still filled Ezor with dread. Something was going to happen. She knew it. It was just the feeling she got… when she met Lotor. When she lost everything. When she lost her siblings. Her parents. It was this exact feeling. And it made her sick.

But they had to fight.

“It’s the paladins! Lance, are you good?” Axca’s voice cut through the white silence of their coms. Lance’s eyes hardened. 

“Yes.” It was going to be over this time. He wouldn’t be afraid anymore. He wouldn’t constantly feel that ache of bitterness and worry in his chest. He wanted to be free. And free is what he’d be. He’d fight for it. 

So, when they split up to fight, Lance did just that. Ignoring the shouts of the paladins, calling them to him. And shot back his own answer to their pleas in the form of bullets. He was done. Lance was sure to keep space between him and the three larger paladins however. The black one was the champion. And as much as he wanted to help Zethrid, it would not help him or her. As easy as it was for Zethrid to throw him. Shiro-the name came to him reflexively- could definitely do the exact same thing. 

The yellow paladin was also the same, he looked strong, and the way he handled the gun in his hands like it was nothing was definitely intimidating. Luckily Ezor was doing well enough against him. Hunk-another name- didn’t stand a chance for her speed and agility. 

And the red one… well. Fear never takes seconds to dissipate. The red paladin doesn’t look physically intimidating. But someone in Lance’s mind all he feels is fear, inadequacy, comparisons. He feels like nothing compared to Keith. A cargo pilot. Whatever that was. So, Lance turns tail and let’s Axca and Narti deal with him. He sticks to keeping the green paladin on their toes. Shooting a shot closer for every word they spew at him until his shots are mere inches from their armor. 

Everything is going fine. Until Lance glances over and sees it. The blue paladin. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see her. Her armor is pink, but she flew the blue lion. That fact feels wrong to him. Like… it wasn’t always her. She moves awkwardly compared to their other paladins. Her position feels new. But that isn’t what got Lance’s attention. What got his attention was the fact she was aiming a gun at Lotor.

The man who rescued him. Treated him like family. Gave him a home and belonging. 

Not that man. 

His feet moved on their own accords, dropping his gun to sprint at Lotor. But Lotor didn’t see him until it was too late. Lance’s hands on Lotor’s back and shoving him off to the side of the staircase just as the loud shot rang out.

It burned.

The ground was cold compared to the burning in his chest. It was shocking and paralyzing. He was so disorientating. No, not him. It? He couldn’t decipher his thoughts anymore, it hurt so bad.

Who was screaming?

It wasn’t him, his mask was still on. But he couldn’t see who, the who room was spinning and blurry. He couldn’t only barely see a few people standing over him. They were familiar, but they weren’t them. Who was he looking for again?

Ezor!

Lance blinked his eyes, and he could see her. She was thrown over Zethrid’s shoulder, her leg was at an odd angle and she was screaming. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her arms looked like they were reaching for him. Leaving him. No. Being forced away from him. He wanted them safe. But… he was also scared. 

His arm reached out as tears glossed over his own vision. Reaching for her too. But no one heard the words under his mask. But the glowing crystal on his neck made the emotion shoot through his family like the bullet that had pierced him.

Be safe.

Don’t leave me.

Don’t forget me.

Ezor only screamed louder, clawing at Zethrid’s shoulder as if she could crawl over there and kill them all by pure force of will. Screaming and shouting curses as their bond went dead as Lance passed out, unconscious, but breathing. The dim glow of pain still present. Ezor shouting curses and death threats all the way until they were out of sight. The image of the paladin’s reaching to her fallen soldier fresh in her mind. And she broke down. Sobbing into Zethrid’s shoulder with cries that could only hurt anyone who heard them.

She lost another one today.

And it was her fault. 

All her fault.

\---

Panic, that was all he felt when he woke up in the nearly all white room. It was so bright, everything was too much. The feeling of restraints digging into his skin, the itchy fabric on his skin, the humming of the machines, the smell of medication and sanitizer. 

It was all so overstimulating. His senses were overloaded and he was confused.

Why didn’t his chest hurt? Where was Ezor? Where was any of his family? Where was the kind guards around the ship? Where were his clothes? Why was he wearing a weird white suit? Where was he?

The people around slapped him in the face with that knowledge. Voltron. He was with Voltron. And all that knowledge did was make his mental state worse. The mind boggling fear multiplying with anxiety, depression, the feeling of never being enough. The feeling of being disregarded. Neglected. Abandoned.

It hurt.

It hurts.

And all they did was nothing.

The blue paladin was probably the easiest to deal with, she never approached him. She just stared. The next best was the green paladin. Pidge. She would only watch in fear and confusion as he would struggle and call out for his family. She’d also console the yellow paladin, who only sobbed. Begging him to remember them. Their names were on the front of his mind. Hunk and Pidge. But he regretted saying their names as soon as he said it. Now they never left him alone. Trying to get him to remember.

But if his head didn’t want to remember them, then didn’t that mean he shouldn’t? Lotor said if it hurt to remember, then it was better to leave it alone. Let it happen naturally and in time. Forcing it would only cause pain, and that wasn’t good. 

Nothing was worth pain. 

That’s why training sessions never went as far like some other forms of Galra training. 

Neither of those too were as bad as the red and black paladins. Both of them scared Lance out of his mind. And no one cared how scared he was. They didn’t care period. Keith was always angry. At who, Lance had no clue. But all he did was frown and scowl. Constantly question him if he remembered any of them at all. It was almost desperate. Shiro… he was worse in the other way. He kept trying to victimize Lance. Saying he understood how hard it was to be taken. That he was safe now.

But he wasn’t safe now. He was breaking down. And no one seemed to care.

No one was letting him go home. 

And they never left him alone!

They were choking him. Shoving names and memories down his throat until he was drowning. Telling stories about how dorky and happy he was. All the jokes he said, people he flirted with. And it sounded like him. But it didn’t feel like the real him. It felt like how he acted when he was afraid and trying not to show it. That nervous fake courage he perfected in high stress situations. The courage his family always saw through like a mirror. Yet, they acted like that was him. He was drowning, they had tied him into a bed in the med bay, and their words is the water they had shoved him under. Stress only made his outbursts worst. And when he got worse his health declined, and then they’d get worried and hassle him more, and he would get more stressed out and over stimulated and the cycle would repeat. There was only one relief. 

Coran.

Coran never shoved memories down his throat, only mentioned them in passing sometimes and looked for his reaction. Backing down as soon as he saw a negative sign. And he defended Lance. Shooing the paladin’s away when he noticed Lance nearing his breaking point and talking Lance back down. Comforting him.

He was the only one Lance actually trusted in the whole place. Even his mind seemed to recognize Coran. The name coming naturally and only bringing calm. Images of the healing pods and the fuzzy memory of soft banter. The feeling of being listened to. Joked with in the best way. Being treated like a person. Like a son. And with Coran’s help, the paladins started figuring out how to approach Lance, how to talk with him even if he refused to respond to some of them. 

Eventually, Lance grew used to their presence, staying calm, they didn’t press his limits. 

But that stopped immediately once they violated the one thing they should have never touched. 

It was Shiro who’d even started having the idea. Looking at the choker like necklace on Lance’s neck. No clasp, and the royal Galra symbol plastered all over it. It screamed collar, like identification. Like a branding. A reminder.

His arm had always been a reminder of the pain and torture he’d went through. As time went on, he’d used it for good, to protect his friends and remember that he’d survived despite all odds. But Shiro knew that if given the chance, he’d rip the arm off at the first chance he could. Maybe. The necklace still agitated Lance? Maybe he’d had set rules of how to act if he ever got captured and the necklace was only reminding him? Maybe he’d start getting better if he took it off? He told some of the other paladins and they had agreed. The only one who didn’t agree was Coran, who knew it was Lance’s only source of comfort. But no one listened to him.

That’s why he only closed his eyes, crying as he listened to Lance’s screams as they pried the necklace off of him. Shrieking for them to leave him alone. Calling them monsters. Screaming bloody murder and thrashing so much he’d heard Hunk worry over the restraints integrity on Lance’s body. The straps they’d insisted was for Lance’s own safety. The thrashing only got worse once they removed it. Lance screaming for them to bring it back. And they didn’t understand. 

Reaching out, they tried to calm him. But Lance had been pushed too far. He only reacted with anger. Attacking with anything he could do if they even got within arm’s lengths of him. Eventually they stopped trying and called it a break for the night, escaping Lance’s anger quickly before Lance could actually get his hands on them. And as soon as the door closed, Lance quickly deflated. His echoing cries turning into heartbroken sobs as he collapsed onto his bed. Head turned as deep into his pillow as he could with the restrictive bindings holding him tight. And Coran drew closer. Gently taking a hand and brushing it through Lance’s hair. Lance didn’t move or show any sign of acknowledging Coran.

But he didn’t attack either. 

Only took in the quiet comfort.

\---

It’s three weeks after his capture that they come, only three days after they took Lance’s necklace. The paladins don’t understand why they accelerated their retaliation plans so quickly, but Coran knows. He knew the crystal around Lance’s neck. And he knew how he’d feel if he felt the extreme angry and hurt that would resonate in the bond before going dead.

He knows he’d fear the worst.

So, Coran doesn’t argue as the paladins rush away in the red sounding alarms. Leaving him to tend to Lance, who was dead asleep, headphones playing gentle music in his ears. Lance had always had nightmares, luckily, even with how much worse they’d gotten. The solution was still the same. Lance sleeping soundly with music in his mind. Blocking out the harsh reality as Coran gently pawed through his hair.

How long would Coran go without seeing Lance now? Would he get to see the boy who’d become a son to him ever again? Would he know how he was doing? If he was happy? If he was safe? Sleeping and eating well? All the worries that swarmed Coran’s mind once he remembered one thing.

Safety and wellness was nothing compared to happiness and Lance could never be happy here.

Coran had known that from the start. The paladins were each too involved in their own problems to actually need each other in the that would help form the family unit that Lance needed for his own problems. Lance needed security, needed someone to look up to, that didn’t pick someone else to favor. He needed family who didn’t make him feel stupid, or didn’t realize how much certain jokes would hit him far too deep. 

Lance needed people to understand and remind him that he wasn’t okay.

And the paladins couldn’t do that.

They were too set in human ways to realize that humans were flawed in how they dealt with people who hurt more than just the level of the body. They didn’t know how to deal with mental and emotional injuries more than just medication and failed empathy. 

It wasn’t the paladins fault per say, they were just children too. Allura even, she was just a child as well. They needed time to grow and learn how to handle themselves, their own problems, their effect on people. They were learning.

But learning was more than what Lance needed now. Maybe, if they hadn’t left. If Lance had never been injured and somehow ended up in Galran care, maybe Lance could have talked about his past and his traumas too his whole team and this whole thing could have been avoided. This deep-set pain that his brain has blocked out. The abandonment. The nightmares. New ones than just the ones Lance talked about from before. 

Coran still worried if he was doing the right thing.

He didn’t get to think too hard on that for long as the med bay door’s burst open, revealing one of the Galra soldiers. Ezor he guessed. That’s the name Lance called out for most of the time at least. She was breathing heavily, as if had just run a marathon. Clutching a weapon in her hand as if it would be her saving grace. Coran simply smiled at her, and stepped aside. Surprising the woman in the door way.

“He’s asleep, and fine. He doesn’t need anything more to stress about now, so, be gentle.” The woman looked at Coran in surprise, she’d obviously been expecting, and prepared for, a fight. 

“You’ll… just let me have him?” Coran smiled at her again. Reassuringly.

“He’s happy with you, and you have treated him much better than the new paladins I have to admit. Even before Allura commanded to wormhole away from him, they were still very distant. Hunk and I hopefully excused from that assumption. I only want the best for him. He’s a sweet boy. He reminds me much of my son. He is my son.”

Warily, Ezor takes the offering. Stepping closer and almost crying in relief as she sees Lance, peacefully asleep, wounds healed so only small marks from old restraints on his arms were present. Slowly, Ezor wiggled her arms beneath Lance and lifted. Carrying the small boy and starting to walk away when she was interrupted. Tensing as Coran called out to her.

“Wait, one moment, just let me, may I?” Ezor stayed patient as the older Altean approached again. Pulling a very familiar piece of jewelry from his pocket and reattaching it to Lance’s throat. “I found out where they put it. He likes it, and I know what it’s used for. Also, music helps with the nightmares, if he sleeps with headphones he tends to sleep the night more often. And Ezor? If I find out you’ve hurt him? I will hurt you.” Ezor paused with surprise, before her own lips curved into a smile. Seeing the way Lance nuzzled, even unconsciously into Coran’s touch. Ezor made a split decision. Pulling a transmission device from her pocket and handing it to Coran.

“You care about him, and he seems to be fond of you, even asleep. I’m sure he’ll be glad to talk and see you. As long as you keep this and us to yourselves.” Coran smiles, thankfully bowing his head and taking the device before giving Lance one last glance. The small gesture had eased any worries and doubts that had lurked within his mind. Peacefully, Coran relinquished his goodbyes laying a small kiss on Lance’s forehead and letting Ezor go before the paladins saw the sneaking ship and suspected an intruder. Watching the woman run with his son held securely in her arms. 

Lance himself felt the motion and his eyes slowly blinked open, watching lazily as Coran got smaller and the halls passed him by. Lance gave a small wave, which Coran returned with a misty-eyed smile. Lance smiled into Ezor’s shoulder. Closing his eyes again as Ezor cradled his head protectively in her hand. Whispering softly into his hair. That he was protected. She’d never let him go again. That nothing was going to ever hurt him again. That he’d never feel that way again. And Lance only had one more thought as he slowly slipped back into the dark void of sleep.

He was safe.

[Lance was also ecstatic as time passed and he got to chat with Coran, often sitting with Ezor as he did so. Coran only smiling at Lance’s wild hand gestures and wild stories. And never once did the two use the other’s acquired information against each other.]


End file.
